It had been one month since I accepted the deal.
One month since I stopped fighting.
I didn't want to admit it at first, but I had no choice. Either I agreed… or we both died. And I wasn't ready to die yet. Not like that.
So I signed the deal with silence.
The first thing I did was get a fake medical certificate. It explained away my absence from the office. "Sick leave," it said, though the truth was a sickness of another kind. Emi was furious with me when I returned, her eyes filled with disappointment. She scolded me, demanded answers I didn't have.
And the others—my colleagues—they laughed. They made fun of me behind my back. Some even to my face. I smiled bitterly, pretending not to hear.
But Kenji 2 had already told me the truth. About the money. The stolen money. He whispered it to me like a secret only we could share. "Check under the bed," he said. And when I looked—there it was.
Stacks of cash.
Dirty, dangerous, wrong.
But also… survival.
And so I lived.
Today, however, was different. Today would be the last day for many workers. Emi told us the layoffs were coming. The company was cutting down, and my chances of being chosen were high.
Yet, strangely, I didn't panic.
For the last few weeks, my productivity had been soaring. My reports were perfect. My reviews spotless. Not because of me, but because of him. Kenji 2. He took control in the office, typing with precision, calculating faster than I ever could. The managers praised me. Colleagues looked at me differently. For the first time, I was seen as competent. Reliable.
Even my body had changed. I had lost weight. My muscles grew sharper, stronger. My reflection in the mirror didn't look weak anymore. And yet—I had no idea what he was doing to me.
He never told me what he did on Sunday, the day that belonged to him. He never told me what happened at night, when my consciousness slipped away like smoke.
But the results were there.
I was healthier.
I was sharper.
I was… alive.
Whenever we had to communicate, it was through my phone notes app.
And so, even if today they fire me, I think I will survive. I have money. I have strength. I have him.
The words feel strange even as I think them, but they are true.
It's not that bad.
Kenji 2 saved me. Or maybe he ruined me. I don't know anymore. All I know is that I accepted him. I made room in my life for him.
And somehow, in this strange, twisted partnership—my new beginning had already started.
The announcement day arrived like a storm everyone had been waiting for.
The office was too quiet. Too heavy. Every laugh felt forced, every word whispered behind nervous glances. Nobody worked; they only pretended to. Even the air conditioner seemed louder than usual.
I sat at my desk, my hands cold, my chest tight. The letter could come to anyone. A single sheet of paper, and your life was changed.
One month ago, I would have been terrified. I would have been chewing my nails, praying under my breath. But now… I sat there calmly, though my heart still beat too fast.
Kenji 2 had told me: "You'll be fine. Trust me."
And as much as I hated it, I did trust him.
Still, when Emi, our manager, finally walked in with a folder in her hands, the whole room froze. Her heels tapped against the floor like a ticking clock, each step a countdown to someone's end.
"Today…" she began, her voice cool but tired, "we announce the restructuring."
Everyone leaned forward. Some stared at the floor, others clenched their fists under the desk.
One by one, names were read aloud. Each dismissal was like a knife. I watched colleagues stand up, bow stiffly, and walk out, faces pale, shoulders hunched. Their desks would be empty tomorrow.
My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to breathe slowly.
Then Emi's eyes flicked toward me. She paused. For a second, I thought my name was next. But she moved on. Another name was called instead.
Not me.
Not today.
I exhaled, the relief washing over me like warm water. I hadn't been cut. I was safe. At least for now.
But safety didn't feel like victory.
Because while I stayed where I was, someone else rose higher.
Her name was Ayana Tanabe. She worked two rows ahead of me, near the big windows. Twenty-six, sharp but kind, with black hair always tied neatly into a bun. She wasn't the loudest or the most confident, but she had this quiet steadiness, this light around her that made people comfortable.
She was also the only person I had ever confessed to.
I still remembered that day, three months ago. I had stayed late, pretending to finish reports, just so I could walk with her to the station. My hands wouldn't stop shaking, and my throat felt dry as sand. But I forced the words out anyway.
"Ayana-san… I… I like you. Would you consider going out with me?"
She had looked surprised, her eyes widening slightly. Then she smiled—gentle, but firm.
"Kenji-kun… you're kind. Really. But I don't feel that way about you, our lifes are very different. Please don't tell anyone about this "
She walked away
No anger. No ridicule. Just a polite, graceful rejection. She bowed, thanked me for being honest, and walked away. And I stood there, alone under the flickering streetlamp, wondering if I had made a fool of myself.
Now, months later, I watched her stand as Emi announced her name again.
But this time, it wasn't to cut her.
It was to promote her.
"Congratulations, Tanabe-san. You've been chosen as the new team leader."
Polite applause filled the room. People smiled, some genuinely, some out of obligation. Ayana bowed deeply, her voice calm but proud as she thanked everyone.
I clapped too, but my palms felt numb.
She had risen.
I had barely survived.
The gap between us widened in that moment, sharp and undeniable. She would move into meetings, decisions, a better future. I would remain here, sitting at the same desk, waiting for the next storm.
Still… I couldn't hate her.
Her promotion was deserved. Her hard work was real.
But watching her smile, I felt something shift inside me. Sadness, yes. Bitterness, maybe. But also a strange kind of resolve.
Because if Ayana could climb higher… maybe so could I.
Not me alone, no. I wasn't strong enough. But with him—Kenji 2—maybe survival wasn't the limit anymore.
Maybe I could aim for more.